When Clowns Collide
by xMissMacaroni
Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like if dear old Joker stumbled upon his creepy Dark Knight counterpart?


I had this idea pop into my head just yesterday and just HAD to write it out. I only own the idea for the story; the Jokers, Harley Quinn, and Batman don't belong to me.

Happy Reading!

* * *

"Catch me if you can, Batsy!" a voice yelled happily. A man with snow white skin, slicked back green hair, and stretched red smile hollered and laughed from the tiny seat of the go-cart he was driving wildly through the streets. He opened his devilish eyes to find a brick wall approaching at an incredibly fast rate. "Uh-oh," his face dropped. Then he closed his eyes and smiled. "Good think Joker's always prepared!" he exclaimed before pushing a button under his seat. In an instant the seat was launched out of the go-cart and flew through the air. Just before it hit the ground an airbag shot out from the top, but it didn't do much. The Joker found himself lurching out of the seat and rolling down the sidewalk as his getaway contraption failed him.

"Give it up, Joker!" came the agitated yell of his batty friend.

The Joker stumbled to his feet and laughed in the face of the caped crusader. "Not a chance, Batman!" he laughed, taking off on foot down the sidewalk. He ducked into several alleys and made his way through a labyrinth he knew Batman would never figure out in time to catch him. With a triumphant hoot of laughter, the Joker found himself almost on the other side of Gotham City and right in front of his humble abode.

The Joker straightened his purple suit and adjusted his blue tie and then walked into the abandoned toy factory. He was greeted with darkness, as usual. He turned a heavy switch and all of the lights flickered on. He waited in the same spot and counted down from five, waiting for something. Just as he reached "one" a high-pitched voice rang through the warehouse.

"Puddin' is that you?!"

"Of course it's me, Harley. Who else would it be?" he responded, walking further into the warehouse finally. He heard Harley's hurried footsteps as she rushed to greet him. She appeared at the top of a metal rail and did a nice little flip off the edge to land right in front of him, on her feet. _Maybe I should put oil on the floor next time_, thought the Joker as he imagined what kind of terrible accident could befall his Hench Wench.

"Mistah J!" the young harlequin cried happily. She latched herself onto the Joker and kissed his cheek. "Did ya get the Big Bad Bat?" she asked, looking up at the clown with admiration shining in her baby blue eyes.

The Joker loosely hung an arm around Harley's waist and walked with her further into the factory. "If by 'get' you mean 'kill,' no," he replied. "I just wanted to ruffle his cape a bit tonight. It's no fun to always plot his epic death. A clown needs a bit of play time," he explained with a silly tone. "The Bat could use some play time, too," he added in a mumble.

Tearing his arm away from Harley, the Joker entered his office and sat down at his chair, looking over all of his plans and blueprints to various things he had done, was doing, and was going to do. So many incredibly ideas, so many wonderful jokes, and so little people who appreciated his genius, no one in this dank city understood his motive. No matter, though. He'd continue to give this town a wedgie til they smiled instead of frowned at the mention of his name.

Harley Quinn hopped up on the desk and leaned back on her gloved hands. "Ya know, Puddin', I was thinkin'…"

"I hope it didn't hurt," the Joker cut her off, chuckling at his own joke.

Harley merely smiled at him. "I was thinkin' since Batman is always getting in your way, why don't we go someplace else? Someplace without a Batman?"

The Joker looked up from his plan and papers. His eyes settled on Harley, who was grinning childishly. She obviously thought her idea was genius. "Leave Gotham, you say," the Joker mused, tapping his pointed chin. He pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. Then he looked at Harley with wide eyes. "That's got to be the most…" he paused, watching the joy spread over the woman's face, "ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" he finished, pushing Harley off of the desk.

Harley yelped as she hit the floor and watched her Puddin' shoot up from the chair and start pacing around her.

"Leave Gotham? Hah! What good will that do?" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you know what kind of legacy I've made in this town?! Why would I leave and spoil all of that?" he asked, towering over her now. His eyes glared down at her as he leaned over and came within three inches of her face. "Never think of something so preposterous again," he snarled.

"Yes sir!" Harley squeaked. She watched him straighten up and walk over to the desk. He sat down and mumbled to himself about something she couldn't hear as she stood and rubbed her sore bottom. Figuring he was in one of his moods, she snuck out of the office.

"Leave Gotham," the Joker muttered to himself. "Nice kid, stupid ideas," he said, spreading some papers over his desk. He spent the rest of the night reading over everything and adding bits to this paper and that.

In the morning he awoke to the smell of something cooking in the beat up little kitchen he had installed into the factory. The Joker didn't remember falling asleep, but he had and drooled on a few corners of his papers. With a yawn the clown stood and trudged down to the kitchen where Harley was. She dressed in an apron and hovering over the stove.

"What's cookin', Harls?" he asked, leaning on the island in the center of the kitchen.

The young woman whipped around and smiled widely. "Pancakes, Mistah J!" she exclaimed. She quickly turned back to whatever she was tending to and lifted a pan from the heated top. She wheeled around and slid three chocolate chip pancakes onto a waiting plate. Then she tossed the pan into the sink with a loud clatter and reached for a small pot on the stove top. The Joker could smell the sweet aroma of strawberries boiling and falling apart into delicious strawberry syrup. Harley poured the red treat onto the pancakes as smiles and with whipped cream made two little eyes on each one.

"Order up!" Harley smiled, throwing the pot behind her and into the sink without a care in the world other than the happiness of the Joker.

The Joker smiled and began eating his pancakes. "Harley baby, you're the best," he commented.

Harley let out a squeak of happiness and watched him eat with dreamy eyes.

Once he was finished, Joker walked out of the kitchen and out of the factory. Harley followed him, just as he expected her to, but he didn't mind. He was more caught up in his own thoughts. His last thugs had met an unfortunate accident the other night when his van suddenly and magically jumped into the Gotham Bay with them, and several undercover cops, trapped inside. So now he was in need of new muscle to do a lot of his dirty work.

Later that evening, after successfully recruiting three large and brain-dead men, the Joker and his crew set out for a night on the town. All intentions of luring the Batman out included, of course. It occurred without fail: his thugs broke into a bank, Harley made a very large withdrawal, and Batman came to stop it all.

"I should have known this would have your name written all over it," Batman growled from the shattered glass doors of the bank. He stepped over the jagged edges and glared at the clown before him.

"Ah, my good friend Batman. Long time no see!" the Joker giggled, jumping off the table he was standing on. He tossed a small circular object in his purple gloved hand. "I never got to thank you for that little go-cart accident last night. It really was a piece of junk," he said, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

"Call your thugs out and do this the easy way, Joker," Batman ordered. He was standing defensively, ready for anything the psychotic clown dished out.

"Now Batman, since when have I ever done things the easy way?" the Joker said, tilting his head to the side. He grinned and shouted toward the back of the bank without taking his eyes off of his favorite playmate. "Batsy's here!"

Clicking was heard and then all of the sudden the Joker's three large baboons stormed into the room with guns pointed at Batman. Harley skipped in with bags full of money.

The Joker smirked as Batman eyed the guns wearily. "Oh don't worry Batman; I wouldn't let them kill you with those barbaric weapons. Your death is reserved for me alone. Those are just to keep you at bay while we get away…again," he grinned, rubbing in Batman's failure to apprehend the clown in over two months.

With an angry snarl, Batman lunged at the Joker. He pounded his large fists into the clown's gut. He went to punch him in the face, but the Joker dodged his fist and thrust a kick to Batman's abdomen. The Bat groaned and stumbled for a moment before he went to send another punch the Joker's way. He was stopped abruptly by an incredible amount of force and pain hitting his back and shoving him to the ground. He saw Harley and a large hammer out of the corner of his eye.

"Hands offa my Puddin'," she said, adding a kick to the ribs for good measure.

"It was nice playing, Batman, but Joker's gotta run!" the Joker cackled. His laughter continued to build until he was in a fit of hysteria. The evil laugh sent shivers down Batman's spine as he tried to stand up. To his dismay, the Joker and his men had already taken off down the street and had just turned the corner. There was little chance that he would catch up to them, but he had to at least try.

The Joker laughed as he ran down the street with Harley and his thugs. There was nothing like making Batman angry. The thrill he got when fighting the Bat was one of a kind. It was anger and euphoria mixed together. It was an immense pleasure. Not even Harley could top that.

Suddenly the rev of an engine ripped through the night air and the Joker recognized it instantly as the Batman's ride. He scanned the area and found no where to hide amongst the buildings. "Into the manhole!" he ordered his henchmen. Harley was about to protest because it didn't look like he was going with them. "Just do it, Harley!" he barked, shoving her toward the hole in the road. Then he continued running down the street, pushing people over and out of his way as he went. Finally he found a shop that looked like it had closed for the night. Quickly he yanked the door open and jumped inside. He watched as the bat mobile sped through the street and right past him. _Hide and seek is so much fun with that stupid bat_, he thought to himself.

The Joker straightened up and turned around, observing the shop he had just entered. It was surprising that the door hadn't been locked; maybe the owner was new to Gotham and didn't understand the danger that lurked the streets. With a smile the Joker walked further into the shop, looking at all of the little knickknacks gathering dust on the shelves. They were weird little objects, looking more like gypsy trinkets than anything.

"You see something you like?" asked a voice.

The Joker spun around and saw a wrinkly old woman seated behind a dimly lit desk. She was hunched over the desk and looking at him with beady little eyes. Her hair was long and white and her skin looked like it needed some major ironing it was so wrinkled.

"I would be careful about who you think you're sneaking up on, old woman," the Joker said. He took one last look around the shop before crinkling his nose. "Junk," he spat.

"How about a free reading?" the old woman asked.

"Reading? As in palm reading?" the Joker scoffed. "What a load of poppycock." But he walked over to the woman and sat down before her. He wanted to hear what kind gibberish she "saw" in his future. He put his palm down on the desk and waited for her, but she merely looked at him.

"You like chaos," she stated simply.

"Tell me something I don't know, woman!" the Joker laughed.

"Your relationship with women is anything but harmonious."

The Joker frowned. "Harley, granted she is awfully annoying, understands my way and we destroy this city together just fine."

"You're a complicated individual," she said and was about to be interrupted by him, but she held up her hand, silencing the Joker. "You will meet your other in the near future," she finished.

The Joker looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "My other?" he laughed and threw his head back. "Woman, no one can compare to the genius and mastery of the Joker!" he yelled. "No…one…" he trailed off, looking over the desk and finding no one there. He turned his head and held back a flinch as he saw the short old woman standing before him with a small pouch in one hand. Then she suddenly lifted her other hand and blew a powder into his face. Shocked, the Joker shot up and coughed, rubbing his face and nose, trying to get the powder off.

"How dare you, old hag!" he exclaimed. No one blew powders, gases, or sprays in his face. That was his move. He glared down at the woman who was smiling up at him.

"Near future," she nodded.

In anger the Joker pulled out a gun from his suit and pulled the trigger, shooting the old woman right between the eyes. She slumped to the floor, blood now oozing from the clean little bullet hole. Even in death she smiled up at him.

"Creepy old woman," he muttered, pocketing his gun and walking out of the shop.

Not two minutes after walking away from the shop did the Joker start to feel dizzy. He shook his head and squinted as he continued on. That powder the woman blew in his face was having a very weird effect on him. He stumbled a little, lost balance, and leaned against a wall for support. He looked down the alley he was in front of and saw a strange looking door against the wall at the very end. He squinted and leaned forward.

"I'm seeing things," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. Doors were never located at the ends of alleys. But when he opened his eyes again, the door was still there. With his curiosity at its peak, he walked into the alley and right up to the door. It was purple, oddly enough. There was a simple brass knob that was just begging to be turned, and who was the Joker to deny the little object its wish?

With confidence the Joker grabbed the knob and opened the door. He found himself surrounded in pitch black. He reached around the walls adjacent to him and felt a light switch. He flicked that on and saw that there were only a couple feet between the door he opened and another door. This one was green. Now things were getting weird. But the Joker entered the tiny space and opened the green door. Beyond that door he was greeted with the darkness of a city much like Gotham. The buildings towered over everything and the sound of cars and people floated through the air. The Joker took a step into the city and looked around.

Harley's words came back to him as he looked at the buildings. Quickly he shook his head and dispelled any thought of wreaking havoc on this city. He took one last look at the familiar looking city and turned to walk back through the door. When he turned, though, there was no door. With as much levelheadedness as he could muster, the Joker looked around the immediate area in search of a door. All he saw was the wall of an alley. With a sigh of annoyance he raised his hand and slapped it over his face. He dragged it down and propped his head in his hand as the other curled around him.

"Just my luck," he muttered. Then he turned and looked out at the city. With a wicked grin he began to take long strides out to the sidewalk. Why not make the best of his stay?

"This just in: police say that just two hours ago a building was blown up, killing ten people, injuring thirty, and leaving nothing behind but joker playing cards," a reporter said.

"Uh…Boss, you oughtta see this," a large man called from a small wooden chair in a dank room. A second later another man entered the room. His hair was green and messy, the white and black face paint he was wearing was cracking and peeling off, and his mouth was drawn up in a ghastly red smile.

"Some say that the infamous Joker is behind the explosion, but the police have their doubts. The Joker was accused of robbing two banks today and blowing up a small restaurant just thirty minutes before the blast. Detectives say it is unlikely that the Joker was behind this disaster," the reporter dictated to the viewers of Gotham's news.

The large man looked from the television to his boss with curiosity. His boss was looking at the television with a frown and was rubbing his chin in thought. "Looks like someone is tryin' to steal my thunder, Stan," the Boss said in an unusually high voice for a man.

"What are we gonna do about it, Joker?" asked another thug from the other side of the room.

Dark eyes danced mischievously and the Joker grinned wickedly. "We're gonna introduce ourselves, boys. Get in the car," he ordered. As his men stood and walked out of the building they were in, the Joker muttered to himself. "We'll teach 'em not to steal my act."

The Joker and his men piled into a van and sped through the streets and over to where the explosion had taken place. The police were still swarming around the area, so they didn't bother to stop or snoop around. Indeed, there were hundreds of joker playing cards spread all over the street. The Joker glared and looked around for any sort of clue as to where his copy-cat could have run off to. Sure enough he found a very subtle line of cards going off towards Downtown Gotham.

After ten minutes of driving the Joker was growing impatient. This new guy was evasive, he'd give him that. But he was on the Joker's bad side and that was never a good thing. With hawk eyes the Joker scanned the road as he drove uncharacteristically slow. A flash of purple caught his eye and he saw a bright purple car speed by his van.

"Gotcha," he smiled, stepping on the gas and following the sleek vehicle. The two went on with the chase for two minutes before the purple car started to slow down and pull into an abandoned lot. The Joker stopped the van some feet away from the car and waited inside for the other person to make the first move. It didn't look like that would be happening any time soon and the Joker's patience was really wearing thin now. He grabbed a machine gun and hopped out of the van, his men following suit.

"What do we have here, boys? A copycat that can't find his own thing," the Joker mocked as he approached the purple car. The windows were tinted, so he couldn't see inside. He raised the gun and fired at all of the windows, shattering them and giving him a good look inside. He peered inside but saw no one. Anger bubbled in his chest. Then suddenly the driver's door shot open and a purple figure bounced out.

"Not too friendly in this city, I guess," the newcomer commented. The Joker studied him. All he was looking at now was the man's back, but he knew that this guy was totally ripping him off. He was dressed in a nicer purple suit and had green hair, but instead of being long and messy, the hair was short and gelled back into a sleek, unique style.

"If you're gonna rip off someone's style, get all the details right," the Joker said, smacking his lips and licking the side of his cheek where one of his scars was.

"Rip off?" the man asked in an astounded voice. "Joker is one of a kind," he snapped, turning around and glaring at the Joker. His facial expression changed in an instant and he stared at the Joker with wide eyes. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "You look a little dirty, friend. Maybe you should wash up," he mocked, leaning towards him slightly.

The two Jokers looked at each other for a long time, studying the movements and mannerisms of the other. The Joker, who had stumbled upon this city by accident, tapped a purple-gloved finger to his chin as he studied the dirtier version of him. This man before him was a fake. He had cheap face paint on that was smudged badly and flaking off. He had a nasty, sloppy red smile drawn on his face and it seemed like the red was only supposed to be accenting the horrendous smile-like scars on his cheeks.

The other Joker, the self proclaimed ruler of this city, stood slightly hunched as he studied his copycat. He seemed to have white skin all over his body, as if it was bleached. There wasn't a hint of different hair color on his head other than green. Even his eyebrows were green. And his lips were bright red. At the moment they were in a slight frown, but the Joker could tell by the structure of his pointed face that those very lips stretched into an unnaturally wide smile.

The unscarred Joker grinned teasingly. "Joker never wears make up," he said, adding a howl of laughter afterwards. He laughed for a good minute before he noticed the other Joker walk up to him with a blade in his hand. Looked like he pushed a button…Fun stuff.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?" he asked, flicking his tongue out and licking them.

The Joker didn't look amused and leaned back, waving a hand at the other Joker dismissively. "Not really," he said in an uninterested tone. Suddenly he saw the other Joker thrust his hands toward him, but he jumped out of the way at the last minute. He raised a hand to the little pink flower on the breast of his suit and pointed it at him. "Ah, ah ah," he warned.

The scarred Joker rolled his eyes and snickered. "Whatcha gonna do? Squirt me with water?" he asked, leaning forward and pointing the knife at the flower.

The other Joker grinned. "Something like that!" he howled, pushing down on the flower and watching as a lime green liquid shot from the center.

Not trusting the color of the liquid, the Joker jumped out of its stream and watched as it hit the pavement. Smoke started to rise and he observed how the liquid began eating away at the ground. It was acid. With a smirk he looked up at the Joker. "Nice trick."

The Joker smiled and pretended to dust off his shoulders. "I've got more up my sleeves." Then he held out his hand to shake with the other Joker. "I've seen your handiwork around the city. Bravo."

The Joker extended his own purple-gloved hand and grasped that of the other Joker. In an instant a shock ran through his arm and he tore it away from the other Joker to see him laugh and hold up the hand, revealing a joy buzzer.

"Can't trust a Joker," he commented, shaking out his hand.

With a chuckle the other Joker nodded. "Can't trust a Joker," he agreed. He walked over to his counterpart and draped an arm over his shoulder. "Tell me about this city and what you've done," he said, starting a conversation with this Joker as he started leading them out of the lot, completely ignoring the thugs behind them.

The Joker had now been in this new Gotham for a week. He and his clone had done the unimaginable to the city and wreaked a kind of havoc that no one had ever seen or heard of. Civilians and police were terrified now that there were two Jokers on the loose. Buildings were being blown up at every turn and people were being killed in the strangest ways. The new alliance between the two Jokers was proving to be big fun for them, but Hell for the people of Gotham.

It was now two weeks since the Joker had entered new Gotham. Things were going along swimmingly the first week, but as the days continued the tempers shortened. The Jokers were now fighting about many things, important or trivial. One Joker drew up insane plans while the other rejected them with violent outbursts. They came close to killing each other about three times. Each time they looked at each other a, hatred bubbled between them. This city just wasn't big enough for two Jokers.

"Listen _Mister J_," the Joker growled, making fun of the name the other Joker had made his men call him, "your stay here has become very drawn out. I think it's time you left."

The other Joker reclined in a chair and pretended to smoke a cigar. "I would, but my way back to _my_ Gotham disappeared the night I arrived," he explained. "If you find it for me, I'll gladly take off. This city doesn't have the sense of humor that _mine_ does," he grinned. "Plus, they've had enough of a vacation from dear old Joker. I'm sure Batman has gone positively _batty_ trying to figure out where I snuck off to."

"Then get in the van, we're getting you out of here," the Joker snarled, grabbing his twin from the chair and yanking him out of the warehouse they were situated in.

The other Joker slapped his hands off of his purple coat and straightened it. "Don't touch the threads, kid," he said dryly, following him into a van.

As they drove crazily down the streets, the Joker kept his face pressed against the passenger window on the look out for a green or purple door. Maybe he needed another creepy old woman to blow some magical powder in his face again? It was possible, but he believed he would be able to find those doors without any crazy drug.

Suddenly, through the whirl of grey and black, a purple object appeared down an alley. "Drive back! I think I saw it!" the Joker exclaimed. The other Joker at the wheel backed up the van, totally ignoring the people behind him that he had now crashed into or driven off the road. Sure enough, down an alley that was incredibly close by to his entrance, a purple door stood at the end with that simple brass knob. The Joker grinned and turned around.

"It's been a pleasure, kid, but Daddy Joker's gotta run!" he cackled.

"Have fun," the Joker grinned, his scars twisting grotesquely as he started to laugh with the other Joker.

With a slap on the shoulder the Joker hopped out of the van. He shot at a few oncoming cars with a machine gun he brought along and ran toward the purple door. Without so much as a glance backwards, he wrenched the door open and went through the green door on the other side. When he emerged he saw the familiar workings of his Gotham. He knew exactly where he was. With a deep, content intake of breath, the Joker kicked the door shut and skipped out into the street.

"Oh Batsy! Joker's back!"


End file.
